


Chess with the Fuhrer

by scoutshamcostume



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: (squidward voice) fuuuutuuuuure, Annoying Questions, Chess, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, One Shot, Post-Promised Day, Riza Is Angry That People Keep Speculating About Her Love Life, Roy is impatient about diplomacy, alcohol is mentioned jsyk, also they're in love, because that's not a surprise to anyone at all ever, questions about the future
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-12
Updated: 2020-05-12
Packaged: 2021-03-02 17:53:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,908
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24150859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scoutshamcostume/pseuds/scoutshamcostume
Summary: Roy has a long day. Riza and Black Hayate wait for him to get home.Some post-Promised Day, established relationship Mustang/Hawkeye fluff--because that's what we all need.
Relationships: Havoc/Catalina (mentioned), Riza Hawkeye/Roy Mustang
Comments: 5
Kudos: 75





	Chess with the Fuhrer

**Author's Note:**

> My only beta was two rounds of revision and spell check on Google Docs, so any and all typos are definitely mine. These characters aren't, though.

It’s later than when he usually gets home and there’s still no sign of him, but Riza’s not worried. He’s been busy lately with the Ishval restoration project--they both expected that, to be honest. He’d sent Riza home earlier in the evening, quietly promising to be back in time for dinner, but she knew better. 

When the Ishval restoration project began in earnest, there had been a string of late nights. The days where Roy would laze around the office or leave early for appointments were long gone. He was passionate about restoring Ishval, about trying to atone for what the old guard had done, so he was more than happy to stay late if it meant working on something meaningful. 

At first, Riza had insisted on staying at the office to help him, and he’d insisted right back the she go home and get some rest--when she finally relented and went home, she waited and waited for him, but sometimes he still wasn’t home even after the sun had long since set and Black Hayate was starting to yawn. They hadn’t underestimated restoration work, but they’d learned quickly that this was going to be more intense of an undertaking than they’d imagined it to be from their shared hospital room.

So she hadn’t waited to eat today, instead electing to keep what was left of the stew she’d made on the stove, ready to be warmed again once he’s home. She was spending her time trying to relax with a novel she’d picked up at a hole-in-the-wall bookstore on her walk home a few days prior, with Black Hayate curled up at her feet and a few lit candles in addition to the soft incandescent light from the lamp next to her couch. 

(She would have preferred to be doing paperwork, but they had been quick to forbid that at home for both of their sakes.)

She wasn’t sure how long she’d been waiting--reading, yes, but not really reading in favor of thinking of him, hoping he was alright but knowing that if something urgent had come up he would have called; resolving to put her hair back up, re-holster her pistols, and drag him out of his office herself if he wasn’t home by the time they were usually starting to get ready for bed--when she heard a key turning in the lock. Black Hayate perked up, ears twitching, and trotted to the door.

“Hi Black Hayate,” she heard him say as his heavy boots hit the floor in the entryway. Riza closed her book, careful to save her place, before standing up from the couch and stretching.

“You didn’t have to get up,” Roy said apologetically as he slid his feet into his house slippers and hung both his jackets on a hook by the door--the overcoat and his military blues, the former atop the latter with the sleeves still tucked inside for ease of access in the mornings. The way Roy spoke here at home, gently and without urgency, was so different from how commanding and decisive he was as a Brigadier General. What’s more, it seemed like such an easy switch for Roy—he seemed comfortable in both settings.

“I’ve been sitting for a while, it’s nice to stretch,” Riza countered, walking over to where he stood. “And besides, I wanted to come say hi.”

He grinned at that, as tired as he was--and he really did look tired, with dark circles under his eyes and a film of deadened exhaustion covering his face along with the beginnings of some stubble on his chin. His smile always transformed his face, made him look so much younger in spite of the burdens he carried.

They moved to embrace each other at the same time, settling into the pattern they always did: her arms around his neck and his around her waist, holding onto each other as if to say  _ I’m here, I’ve got you, everything is fine. _

“Hi,” he said. She could hear his smile in the sound of his voice.

“Hi,” Riza said quietly, inhaling the way he smelled of sandalwood and citrus and, faintly, of ashes.

“Missed you,” Roy murmured into Riza’s shoulder.

She chuckled at that. “If I recall correctly, you were the one who insisted I go home.”

“I know. I always miss you when you’re not around,” Roy said, squeezing a little tighter.

“I didn’t think you were so sentimental.”

“You’ve known me since I was a teenager. This isn’t new.”

She thought for a moment. “Fair point. There’s leftover stew, by the way.”

He breathed a thank you into the side of her neck and pressed a kiss to her pulse point, right on the edge of her scar, before pulling back and shuffling into the kitchen.

“I can reheat it,” Riza offered, but Roy shook his head-- _ don’t worry about it. _ He had already gotten the burner under the pot going again. She leaned against the counter, watching him as he opened the liquor cabinet to reach for a tumbler and the bottle of whiskey they’d gotten from Havoc and Catalina as a housewarming gift when they’d finally found an apartment to share. The stopper came off the bottle with a satisfying thunk.

“That kind of day, huh?” Riza asked as he poured his drink and took a sip.

He nodded. She didn’t press. She knew better than that. While they did work in the same office, she didn’t go to all of the meetings he was expected to attend, nor was she under anywhere near as much pressure as he was.

“Things are moving, but slowly,” he said eventually.

“Restoration and reparations are hardly overnight processes,” she said.

He turned to look at her with an expression she couldn’t place. She’d noticed that ever since the Promised Day, he seemed to look at her almost with reverence, or at the very least a sort of disbelief that he was still able to look at her and  _ see _ her these days thanks to Dr. Marcoh’s philosopher’s stone, and the look on his face didn’t seem too far from that.

“I know.” He sighed. “Sometimes it feels like we get caught up in the details--and yes, details are important in reconciliation work, but the higher-ups will often spend all of their time wringing their hands over things that don’t really matter, and then it’s up to me to remind them of our goal without being entirely insubordinate.”

“Sometimes being insubordinate can save you, though, if you’re pointing out what really matters,” Riza said, reaching for the tumbler of whiskey. “May I?”

(She knew they were both thinking of that time in the tunnels under Central, when she’d held a gun to his head after he’d reduced Envy to his true form and wanted to keep going until Envy was truly gone, trying to stop him from crossing a line she knew he’d regret crossing.)

Roy nodded and passed the glass to her, and she took a slow sip as he tended to the stew.

“I played chess with the fuhrer today,” he said after a few moments of comfortable silence. Riza could hear the exhaustion creeping into his voice.

“Oh? How did that go?” She asked.

“I lost, as I always do,” Roy said.

“ _ Almost _ always. You’ve beaten him once, haven’t you?”

Roy gave a slight chuckle. “Just the once.” He’d deemed the stew warm enough, so he turned the stove burner off and ladled what was left from the pot into the bowl Riza had set out when she’d hoped that he would be back in time to eat at the same time as her.

He moved to lean against the counter next to her. “Grumman asked when we were going to finally tie the knot and quit making everyone wait. His words, not mine. He also said he didn’t relax the anti-fraternization rules for nothing and that we should take advantage of it. Again, his words.”

Riza rolled her eyes, but she passed the whiskey back to him--he definitely needed it more than she did. 

“He may be the fuhrer, but he’s absolutely  _ insufferable _ .” She meant for that to convey her frustration, but even as she said it, though, a smile warped her tone. She moved to clean the pot in the sink only for something to do, something to distract her from other people’s thoughts about her love life and what she should do about it.

Roy was quiet for a while, basking in the contentment of his stew and whiskey and life at home with his partner and their dog, without several aides trying to get his attention or yet another general taking issue with the conditions of success they’d agreed upon weeks ago.

When he finished eating, Roy turned to her. “I said we’d get married when we’re ready. I hope that wasn’t too much for me to say, considering you have a reputation for not showing emotion to maintain.”

Riza dried her hands and smirked in response to the rib at her workplace disposition. “That’s not too much to say at all. In fact, that’s probably what I would have said, too, had I been in your position.”

“Oh yeah?” Roy said. He finished his whiskey and set the tumbler on the counter. “I know we’ve always been devoted to each other, even when we were just superior and subordinate, but I kind of didn’t expect you to be so open to the idea of getting married.”

Riza sighed. “For a long time, I wasn’t. Because of the anti-fraternization rules I thought it would just be me and Black Hayate.” Hearing his name, Hayate yipped from his doggie bed in the living room. “But then Grumman relaxed those rules, and now the only future I can see for myself is one where you and I are never apart again.”

Roy smiled, a genuine one that lit up his whole face—then his smile turned into more of his characteristic smirk. “That’s really sweet. Wait till the rest of the team hears about this--the esteemed Colonel Hawkeye, famed for her stoic demeanor, getting  _ sappy _ _?_ They won’t believe it.”

“Don’t you dare,” Riza deadpanned, poking him in the side right in the spot where he was ticklish.

“Not fair!” he yelped.

“You said it yourself, I have a reputation to maintain.”

“You didn’t have to poke me there, though,” Roy grumbled. 

Riza moved to embrace him again--an olive branch that he accepted willingly. She rested her head on his chest so she could hear his heartbeat--it thudded away, as strong as ever. A reassurance.

They remained like that until he stifled a yawn, at which point Riza pulled back and said, “Okay, Mr. Big Important Diplomat, time to get some rest so you can be ready for whatever Big Important Diplomat things tomorrow brings.”

“Okay, Mrs. Big Important Diplomat, but I have one condition.”

“What’s that?”

Roy took Riza’s hands in his. “That you’ll be right there with me.”

She grinned. “There’s nowhere else I’d rather be. Question, though,” she said.

Roy nodded earnestly.

“Does this mean I can stay late at the office with you from now on?”

Roy laughed. “Only when it’s absolutely necessary.” 

She started to complain, but then he kissed the pout off of her face and she realized she didn’t have too much to complain about after all.

**Author's Note:**

> Can u tell I like run-on sentences? 
> 
> If you enjoyed this story and feel so moved, please do let me know.


End file.
